Her Wanted Wolf
| Her Wanted Wolf | |
| The Were Chronicles [2] | |
| Renee Michaels | |
| Secret Cravings Publishing (2012) | |
| Rating: | ★★★★★ |
| Tags: | Shifter |
Alpha were Drew Lunedare lives by very few rules. Keeping the women in his family safe was foremost. The fact his sworn enemies had taken his sister eats at him. This makes him dangerous and his temper unpredictable. On the verge of acquiring a clue to her location, he has it snatched away by a she-wolf who is not in any way intimidated by him. She is everything he does not want, Sabine kindles emotions in him he’s determined to keep buried. But she has a gift which might help get what he believes is his heart’s desire.
Sabine Silverwolf is determined to save her small pack from extinction. If she has to use the menacing were, she will, even if she has to take him as her mate. She needs him, but doesn’t want him. She strikes a bargain that will be mutually beneficial; his protection for her skill at masking scent.
But neither were takes into account that proximity will bring out the primal in them, awakening a need that can’t be denied. Loving is easy; it is the wanting that causes difficulties.
HER WANTED WOLF
The Were Chronicles
Renee Michaels
EROTIC ROMANCE
Secret Cravings
Publishing
www.secretcravingspublishing.com
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A Secret Cravings Publishing Book
Erotic Romance
HER WANTED WOLF – The Were Chronicles
Copyright © 2012 by Renee Michaels
E-book ISBN: 978-1-61885-206-9
First E-book Publication: March 2012
Cover design by Dawne Dominique
Edited by Lori Paige
Proof read by Julie Reilly
All cover art and logo copyright ©
2012 by Secret Cravings Publishing
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Renee Michaels
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
They came hard and fast, working their way through the thick virgin
forest, scrambling up the sharp slippery incline to the crag where he camped. A
series of small rock falls gave away their location, and the repetitive reverberations
of many paws hitting the ground hinted at the number of weres headed in his
direction. Neither the urgent cadence of their footfalls nor the fact that they
didn’t attempt to hide their approach elicited a reaction from Drew Lunedare.
It would take very little effort to discover if his unwelcome guests were
friends or foes. A deep breath would give him a reading of their spoor. Why
bother? He’d know soon enough.
His family knew better than to disturb him when he came up here in the
grips of a killing rage. He wasn’t fit company for man or beast. If they
weren’t allies, well now, that was a different matter altogether. A swift
vicious fight might just be the thing he needed to get his blood pumping, to
make him feel alive again.
God knows he’d done his damnedest to ignite a spark inside himself. Sex
sure as hell didn’t work. It didn’t matter how many willing bodies he lost
himself in. He couldn’t forget. The brief, intense moments when his senses were
flooded with pure sensation faded all too quickly, leaving him as hollow as
before, with a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.
Drew drank from the label-less liquor bottle in his hand and allowed the
rotgut to slide over his tongue. Swallowing to save himself from choking, he
gasped for the breath cut off by the harsh, throat-searing liquid and blinked
rapidly. Not even the burn from the raw alcohol warmed his insides. Nor would
it provide the oblivion he craved. Drew knew that from painful experience. The
only thing he got from his overindulgence was a searing hangover that churned
his stomach like a bile-filled mixer and pounded at his brain like a
jackhammer.
The fact that they’d taken his sister under his watch and he’d failed to
retrieve her ate at him. He should have kept her safe. Drew knew who took Aimee
as an act of retribution against him. Bardo Redmaven. And he also knew why.
He’d sided with Justice Ambervane when the Redmavens tried to claim both
the leadership of the ruling council and Saffa—this generation’s
multimorph.
At first, Drew was confident he’d bring Aimee home before they used her as
breeding stock.
He’d located the members of the scattered Redmaven pack within a few
hours of his sister’s disappearance, but there had been no sign of their alpha,
that fucker Bardo Redmaven, or his sister. The frantic hours of searching for a
small sign of her turned into fear-filled days, and the days into weeks of
black despair.
He and his pack brothers had hunted for Aimee with single-minded focus
for the two weeks since she’d gone missing. On his behalf, as supreme alpha,
Justice sent the word out as far north as Canada, across the Atlantic to Europe
and Russia asking for help. The complete erasure of their scent trail
confounded them. He made the painful decision to cease their futile search,
pull back, and wait for the kidnappers to slip up. All Drew needed was a hint
of her trail, a small lead to send him in the right direction, before he headed
out again.
Drew closed his eyes and clenched his jaw until his teeth ached. His
self-recriminations and dark thoughts were non-productive, but they looped in
his head like a tape.
Guilt was a relentless mistress.
Harsh, labored pants disturbed the birds enough to send them skyward in a
panic. The thin mountain air was a bitch to breathe in, especially if you ran
full out. His hand tightened on the neck of the bottle.
Instinctive wariness took over, and Drew lifted his head to sniff the
air.